


'Tis But A Flesh Wound

by generalatomicsgalleria (charmingotter)



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, F/M, good ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 00:56:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12047970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmingotter/pseuds/generalatomicsgalleria
Summary: Hancock gets hurts and decides it's best if he not mention it....





	'Tis But A Flesh Wound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [valiant_muffin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/valiant_muffin/gifts).



> inspired by [@sillyandawkward's](http://sillyandquiteawkward.tumblr.com/) [art here]()

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. He watched her pull the pin. She pitched the grenade through the air, it bounced off the wall and towards the raiders. She ducked behind the dumpster. He didn’t. Shit.

The blast knocked him on his back. For a moment the only feeling was the breath being knocked out of him, but then came the pain, hot and intense, cutting through his abdomen. He allowed himself a soft groan as he sat up.

“You okay?” Sun asked, looking over her shoulder at him from where she had landed in the dirt herself. And with not a scratch as far as he could see.

Hancock looked down at the blood staining his shirt, feeling like he had been shanked in the kidney. “All good over here, Sunshine,” he lied. “You alright?” He asked, even as he began assessing his own damages. Sucking in a sharp breath, he pulled out the small piece of shrapnel from his side and pressed a rough hand to the wound.

Hancock struggled to his feet, the world rocking beneath him for a long moment. Putting a hand out to find the nearest wall, he closed his eyes, trying to regain a sense of balance.

“I’m fine. The raiders that were tailing us are most certainly not,” she said and he could hear the smile in her voice.

Cracking an eye back open he saw that she was right. All the raiders were now either dead or long gone. Apparently nobody wants to fuck with a woman who’s that liberal with her grenades. All things considered…that was probably the smartest move they had ever made in their miserable lives.

He looked down at the twisted piece of metal in his right hand. Goddamn thing wasn’t even from the grenade, was a piece of steel off one of those old cars. He rolled his eyes at his luck, dropping the piece of metal with a small clink against the pavement. Pushing himself off the wall he slowly made his way towards Sun, pulling his tattered coat over the wound.

“Ready to head back then?” She asked, dusting herself off. “It’s getting late.” Squinting at the steadily dimming orange horizon, she said, “We can probably make it back before dark though.”

He laughed lightly, pain shooting through him when he did. “Yeah, unless you wanna tempt fate twice and throw another grenade to see if that one kills me.” Hancock rolled his eyes. “Throw it closer next time, why don’t you, huh?”

Sun gave him a small apologetic smile. “Sorry,” she took his hand. “I thought you’d move faster,” she half giggled, ducking her head. “Come on, I’ll make it up to you. We get back home, I’ll cook you my famous radstag noodle soup.”

He could already imagine the downright nauseating smell of that god awful soup cooking. The gamey radstag mixing with the pre-war noodle mix- making things twice as greasy. As good a cook as Sun was, she still couldn’t make those noodles taste like anything other than salt. “Sounds more like a punishment,” he teased, letting her lead him forward by the hand.

It was when they got just outside the gates of Goodneighbor and he stumbled and fell to his knees that Hancock realized his wound might have been a bit worse than originally imagined.

“John?!” Sun squatted in front of him. “What’s wrong?” She didn’t wait for an answer and instead went after them herself, her eyes and hands running all over him, trying to find the damage. When her hand came back stained with blood after going over his left side that her eyes finally met his, “John.”

“It’s nothin’, Sunshine.” He forced out a smile. “All good.” And that was the last thought he had before blacking out.

When he opened his eyes again he was on the couch in the Statehouse. “Don’t move, idiot,” Sun said and he realized she was there, too, holding his hand. “The stimpack is doing its job, but it’s not completely healed.”

“So, where’s the-”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She cut him off.

Hancock sighed, looking away from her. “I don’t know. No point in worrying you, I guess,” he half threw his hands up. “I didn’t think it was that bad, okay?”

“You didn’t think it was that bad?” She echoed sharply. Her nails cut into his hand. “You almost bled to death! You could have died, John!”

“But I didn’t,” Hancock argued, staring hard at the ceiling. “I’m fine. By tomorrow I’ll be good as new. Besides, it’s not like something as stupid as a piece of scrap metal is gonna take me out,” he chuckled. He looked over at her, hoping to see her usual begrudging smile when he joked about this sort of thing, only to find that tears had begun to roll down her cheeks.

“You could have died, John,” she said again, softer this time, her hand loosening her grip on his.

He squeezed her hand, “I’m sorry.”

Sun nodded, scrubbing harshly at her eyes. “I love you, stop being so stupid, dammit,” she sniffed, finally giving him that smile he had been waiting for.

“I won’t make any promises, but I’ll do my best,” he chuckled, bringing her hand up to his lips.


End file.
